


Pot and Kettle

by cross



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Secret Crush, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cross/pseuds/cross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Milla, in her neverending quest to understand humans, confronts Alvin about his own emotional anomaly - his soft spot for one Jude Mathis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pot and Kettle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [medomai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/medomai/gifts).



The human realm, Milla Maxwell had discovered, was rife with oddities that both bewildered and bewitched the senses of her temporary shell. These oddities were rituals and feelings that humans took for granted: the simple things like hunger and thirst, the inconvenient ones like exhaustion and having to _bathe_ herself every day lest she smell like the beasts of the marsh. But Milla was no fool and she grasped these new concepts with ease, and even grew to _like_ some of them, particularly where croquettes and cakes and chowders were involved.

What mystified Milla through the days, weeks, and months of their journey was the depth of humans’ emotions and the complicated bonds formed between them, sometimes creating euphoria and at other times, devastation. She often found herself an outsider looking in: at Leia’s loving antagonism of Jude and her relentless belief that there was something in that Agria worth redeeming, at Jude’s foolish mercy for Alvin, at Alvin’s puzzling refusal to abandon their group in favor of pursuing his shadier interests, at Rowen’s grandfatherly affection for young Elize and his devotion to correcting the mistakes of his youth. While Milla had little time for reading these days, she was certain that the answers to her questions would not be found in any book, and that maybe understanding just came with time and open ears, eyes, and heart. 

It was Alvin in particular that left Milla cold. For all the sensations in the human world that were new to her, she was not left without her wits, and she knew that mercenaries were the most selfish of men, servicing others only in the interests of their wallets and with no loyalties to anyone but themselves. She had never trusted him farther than she could throw him (which, without the help of Gnome, was not very far at all). One eye was always on him and the other on the road ahead, but even the Lord of Spirits could not always account for the unpredictable and bizarre whims of humans. 

_It seems,_ Milla observed, _that Alvin has a soft spot for Jude._

Ever the nosy and reckless spirit, Milla prodded Alvin about it—in private, of course; away from Leia’s perky ears and Elize’s gentle ones. 

“Can I ask you something, Alvin?” 

Alvin tossed his head back, chuckling and turning his gaze to the vast Rieze Maxia night sky. 

“I’m being interviewed by the Lord of Spirits herself?” He cast her a glance. “Well, how can I turn that one down? Just make sure you capture my good side for the papers…” 

“Very funny,” Milla said dryly. “I was starting to think you didn’t have a good side, to be honest.” 

“Does that mean you think I’ve got one after all?” 

Milla crossed her arms, turning to face him, her long locks sweeping aside as if Sylph were still there to fan the winds in her glory. Alvin shifted his body, feeling her gaze creeping upon him, her silent judgment weighing heavy. He found himself unable to conceal his emotions when he needed to the most. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Honest to a fault as always,” Alvin said with a shrug. 

“It wasn’t a no,” Milla said carefully. “I do see it sometimes. You’re gentle with him.” She nodded towards their campsite several feet away, where the kids and Rowen lay balled up in their sleeping bags. 

Alvin didn’t miss a beat. “With who? Jude? Nah. What good would that do? Kid’s already too gentle for his own good. Any gentler and he’ll just turn into a sentient cotton ball. Besides, you’re one to talk… Lord Maxwell.” 

Milla didn’t miss the sarcastic derision in the use of her title, nor did she pay heed to Alvin’s turning of the tables. “I read about this in a book once. I believe it was called a ‘defense mechanism’ -- an emotional tactic that humans employ in order to deflect and downplay their own feelings for maintaining a facade presented to others. Is there some reason you’re afraid to admit that you care about Jude, Alvin?” A pause. “Perhaps this is yet another facet of humans I just can’t fathom.” 

Alvin winced and dropped his arms, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to look her in the eye. “Well, what about you? I don’t see you prancing around all ‘I love Jude! I love Jude! I love what a nerdy honors student he is, he’s such a hunk, and he’s smart too!’” Milla’s eyes widened as Alvin’s voice climbed an octave to mock hers, and she took an affronted step back. 

“A _hunk_?” she snapped. “A hunk of _what_? Cheese? I don’t know what you’re getting at, Alvin, but Jude is _not_ a hunk of delicious cheese.” 

He smacked his palm to his forehead before looking at the stars once more. 

“Right, I forgot slang is totally lost on you. Forget it.” There was silence, and as the moments passed, a smile grew on Alvin’s lips, before he broke the quiet with a heavy sigh. “So what if I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for the kid? He’s just so… genuine. It’s almost concerning. Makes it seem like there’s something in this world actually worth saving.” 

Milla tilted her head, and joined him in gazing at the stars. 

“Mm. I think I know what you mean.” 

It was comforting, in a way, to know that there was someone else out there whose hardened heart went just a little soft for Jude Mathis. It was reassuring, to know that others saw the good qualities in the boy, and that her trust in a human wasn’t foolish. And most of all, it was relieving to know that someone else wanted to protect Jude and his lofty ideals, seemingly impossible as they were, because Milla had known from the start that this body would someday fail her and she would return home, and all she could do to protect not only Jude but Elize, Leia, and Rowen too would be to guide the gentle touches of the earth and the water, and to divert the harsh winds and fire from their paths. 

“Thought you might,” Alvin said, casting her a smirk and effortlessly slipping back into his cocky persona. “I think there’s a saying about a pot and a kettle, but that’s probably lost on you too, so I’ll let it go this time.” 

Milla lacked a smart retort, and knew nothing about any pots or kettles. With her eyes on his, she folded her hands together and said sincerely, “Thank you for sharing, Alvin. I do believe your good side is a nice look for you, and you should wear it more often.” 

He flushed and kicked his foot into the dirt. “Dunno what you’re talking about, Milla. But I do know that I need some shuteye, so…” Alvin waved his hand and started in the direction of the sleeping bags. “G’night.” 

“Hm. Sleep well.” 

And Milla watched as Alvin traipsed towards the campsite, throwing a bucket of dirt over the bonfire to snuff it out and sliding into his sleeping bag in between Rowen and Jude. She turned her back on the group, settling herself down on a mound with nothing but her thoughts and the peace of the night around her. 

The funny thing about humans was that each time they answered her questions, their answers only bred more. It was a pleasing quirk of mortals that Milla had come to love, much like the mortals themselves.


End file.
